


It's none of your business

by rosepose



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Kiwi - Harry Styles (Song), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Harry Styles, Harry styles daughter, Multi, Song: Kiwi (Harry Styles), Unplanned Pregnancy, harry is a dad, harry styles kiwi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-06-19 03:51:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15501723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosepose/pseuds/rosepose
Summary: Story based off of the song Kiwi by Harry StylesOr:Harry meets a mysterious girl in a black dress who will end up changing his life forever.





	1. Chapter 1

Harry groaned as he un-stuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth. His eyes opened to an unwelcome sunlight, and his resonated with the dull thud of bass drum. He smiled in spite of himself. Today was going to be a good day, whether his body agreed or not. He was sure of it.

 

His phone buzzed and lit up with a message:

 

**Mum**

When is your flight, love? I can’t wait to see you. Xx

 

He smiled wider. Tonight, he was going home. His tour was over, and it was the last night for a while that he’d wake up completely and utterly drained. Today was his.

 

His phone rang now, which startled him a bit. It must be important if his mum was calling now. He picked up the phone and glanced at the caller ID. Cleo Mann.

 

 _Cleo?_ He hadn’t thought of her in ages. His finger hovered over the screen a moment before his swiped to answer it. “Hello?”

 

“H-hi! Hi, Harry. I-it’s Cleo.”

 

“Yeah...erm, what’s up?”

 

“It’s just...I was wondering if you’re still in New York I need to talk to you. I...It’s…”

 

“Are you okay?” He was getting concerned.

 

“I...I don’t... I don’t know. Harry, I don’t know what to do. I didn’t know who else to call.”

 

“Where are you? I can meet you.” Cleo began to cry.

 

“I’m at my h-house. I-I’m so, so sorry, Harry.” He and Cleo weren’t even close. They talked from time to time, but they were never at a “let me confide in you” level. Whatever it was must have been serious.

 

“I’ll be there soon.”

 

“P-promise me...you won’t get upset with me?”

 

“Of course I do, I promise.”

 

_Harry stumbled into the hotel room. His fingers were intertwined with a girl’s. He'd just met her. She was wearing a black dress that looked incredible against her tan skin. That’s how they had gotten to talking. Him complimenting her dress.  How typical of him to pick up a girl at a gay bar._

_He noted that she wasn't acting the way girls usually did when he brought them to his room. She was shaking. He kissed her cheek. “What’s wrong, love?”_

 

_“I think I made a mistake,” she said looking up at him with her soft, brown eyes._

 

_“Why’s that?” He mused, becoming impatient, but not wanting to be disrespectful._

 

_“I-I’ve never...I haven’t…”_

 

_He squinted at her. “You’re a virgin?” He takes another look at her and decides it’s not possible._

 

_“No, I’m not...I’ve just never….Not with a man.”_

 

_He didn’t know whether to kiss or to comfort her.  “You want to?” He asked._

 

_She nodded. He pressed his forehead to hers and he combed his fingers through her hair, black and full of curls that rivaled his own.  “Will your girlfriend mind, then?”_

 

_“Haven’t got one. What about your boyfriend?”_

 

_“What about him?”_

 

Harry got out of the car slowly, and took in the apartment complex. He’d only been there a few times, but he appreciated that fact that it was somewhat removed from the chaos of the city. He buzzed her number to be let in. “It’s Harry.” he said.

 

He climbed the stairs to her apartment, preparing to knock. She opened the door before he could.

 

The woman standing before him was very different from the one he met a month ago.

“What’s wrong, Cleo? You’ve had me worried about you all morning.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she said. She was crying. “Come in, please. Sit down.” Harry obliges.

 

“I don’t know how to say it, Harry.”

 

“Then just say it.”

 

“I’m...I’m having your baby.”

 

“What?”

“Harry, I-I’m pregnant.”

 

“And it’s...I’m…?”

 

“You’re the only person it could be. I...went to the doctor this morning to get a blood test.” she said, looking down at her lap.

 

“I don’t know what to say.”

 

“Neither do I.” She pauses. “Harry? I...I think I’ll keep it.”

 

“That’s…” He doesn’t know what to say. It can’t be real.

 

“Just because I’m keeping it doesn’t mean you have to. I’ll take it. I’ll do everything.”

 

He hesitated a few seconds too long. “I don’t--” _Are you insane?_ , he wants to say. As if he wouldn’t help her?

 

“It’s okay. It’s none of your business.”

 

“What the hell does that mean?” She got up, distancing herself.

 

“I don’t know if I can...do this.” she breathed.

 

Harry was bewildered, to say the least. “But, you just said…”

“I don’t think I can do this...with you, Harry. You’re just...You’re larger than life. And for me to just...” She took another step, but he moved to block her. Harry stood in front of her, almost a foot taller, and wrapped his arms around her. She sank into him the way she did on that night when she forgot who she was and became who she wanted to be. The mysterious actress in the black dress. With no one to go home to.

 

“Are you thinking that this is your fault?” She didn’t respond, instead she looked down at the colorful floor tiles.

 

“Yes.”

 

_Harry watched as the girl he met, Cleo, rose from the bed. She made her way in her underwear onto the balcony, a box of cigarettes in her hand. She took one and lit it between her fingers before taking a long drag. “You smoke?” He called after her._

 

_She let out a pathetic cough. “No, I don’t!”_

 

_“Well, what’re ya doin’, then? Nasty habit, that is.” He smiled._

 

_“Maybe I feel nasty right now.”_

_He got up and crossed the room to join her. “Do ya?” Harry grabbed the cigarette from her fingers and put it to his lips, leaning with his back to the railing.  He tilted his head to the sky and blew the smoke upwards before extinguishing it on the ground._

 

_She laughed. “What’d you do that for?”_

 

_He gave he an amused look. “Well, I’m a singer, an’ I pretty well need my lungs for that, don’t I?” He stared at her for a moment. “Who are you, then?”_

 

_“What?” She hadn’t expected that._

 

_“I’d say it’s a pretty straightforward question, wouldn’t you?”_

_“I’d have to disagree. It’s far too broad.”_

_“Tell me about your family, then.”_

 

_“Oh, uh...they’re pretty great, actually. I look forward to holidays and all that.” She cleared her throat. “A bit...traditional, I guess. My dad’s half especially.”_

 

_“So, have you told them...about…?”_

 

_“About...my rainbow alter ego? No. Not a chance.”_

 

_“That’s something to think about, though.”_

 

_“It’s just, I can’t even imagine myself doing it. When I was twelve, I remember my aunt talking about gay people. I’ll never forget this; she told me that being gay was the devil’s work, but then she said, ‘But if you came home one day with a girl, I would not disown you, because you’re my niece and I love you.’”_

 

_“It’s sort of sweet. In its own way.” He laughed._

 

_“I’ve never told anyone that.”_

 

He let go of her. “How could you think that?”

 

“I don’t know, it’s just h-how I feel. I don’t know how I’m going to tell my family. God, just imagine my Dad flying in and going ‘Kiwi, kiwi, how are you? You look great!’ and then me going, “Nice to see you too. By the way I’m pregnant. And gay.”

 

“Well, not completely gay.” He joked.

 

“Mostly.”

 

“Did you say _Kiwi_?”

 

“Oh yeah, that’s what he’s called me ever since I was little. He said I used to yell, ‘Kiwi, kiwi!’ until he went to the store to buy more.”

 

Harry sat down again, silent. “You wouldn’t want me to see her?”

 

“What?”

 

“The baby,” he whispered.

 

“Her…?”

 

“I think that would be lovely, if it was a girl. And I’d like to see her.”

 

“I don’t know i- if…”

 

“I get it.” He said abruptly. “We’ll talk later, yeah?” Harry got up and left without another word. That one sentence still rang in his ears. _It’s none of your business._

_It’s none of your…_

 

_11 months later_

 

On his way back from the run, Harry opens up the mailbox and sifts through the junk. There’s a letter from Cleo. He rips it open.

 

_I know it’s been a few months, Harry, since we’ve seen each other, but I wanted to tell you some very exciting news. I recently gave birth to a beautiful girl. She’s going to be called Rowan Anne Styles. She sleeps beautifully and is eager in the morning. She cries and cries until I start singing to her._

 

_She has your nose and your green eyes. I wonder who she will become when she’s older. Hopefully she’ll be as kind and brilliant as her father. I can’t wait for you to meet her. I think she’s going to love you._

_All My Love, Cleo xx_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave kudos/ comment please if you like the story so far. I really liked the idea of Harry as a father and especially liked writing the unconventional situation they're in where they're both kinda gay. :) I was initially going to only have it as a oneshot or a two-parter, but I keep coming back to Harry and Cleo's story. Now, go on and read the next chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

Inside the house, he turns the letter over. 

 

_ Also, when you come over, you can take a paternity test. I know it’s not as if you don’t trust me or anything, but it’s important for legal reasons. Sorry if you’re uncomfortable with that. Let me know. You’re on her birth certificate. I’ll show you when you get here. _

 

Attached is a photo of Rowan. She’s beautiful. She’s a bit paler that her mother, and her hair sits in a big curly mess atop her head. She’s right about the nose. He marvels at it a moment. She looks so peaceful in her crib. Cleo was right, though. He needs to know that this little girl is his, once and for all. 

 

His phone rings. It’s his mother. “Hi, Mum.”

 

“Hello, sweetheart. Have you heard from Cleo at all?” She sounded anxious. 

 

“Yes, actually.”

 

“Good, good. I started to worry…”

 

“The baby’s two months old. She’s got my last name.”

 

“Really?” She sounded on the verge of tears. “What is it? What’s her name?”

 

“Rowan Anne Styles.”

 

“Oh, Harry. My son, that’s beautiful. I thought surely…she would name the child after her…”

 

“I did, too. And to name her after you as well...”

 

“Rowan is a strong name, son. Rowan Anne.” He could feel the awe in her voice.

 

“I’ll meet her soon. I’ve just gotten a letter from Cleo. She says while I’m in New York, I should get a paternity test.” He waited for his mother’s reaction.

 

“Yes, well, that’s the responsible thing to do.”

 

“I thought so, too.”

 

“And when this baby’s identity is confirmed…”

 

Harry smiles. “I promise you’ll meet her soon. It’s just hard because Cleo lives in New York.”

There’s a pause. “Harry, my son. I want you to know that I’ll always support you. I love you and I’m proud of you. But if this arrangement makes you unhappy....this is the one instance I’d encourage you not to be a gentleman about it. Do you understand?”

 

“Of course, Mum.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you more.”

 

“Goodbye, my son.”

 

~~~

 

Harry finds himself in front of the same door he left 11 months ago. He prepares himself for a life-changing experience. He knocks on the door, which opens a few moments later. 

 

Cleo runs into him, and he wraps her in an embrace. She’s crying. “It’s so good to see you, Harry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

 

“Hey, hey…” He says. “It’s good to see you too. Why are you crying?” He says this like Cleo sobbing is the silliest thing in the world.

 

“I’m very emotional these days,” she says, breaking away with a giggle. “Come in, come in.” Cleo seems almost giddy now.

 

“She’s asleep right now. Come, come.” She ushers him into another room. He stops dead in his tracks. There she is. He can’t believe it.

 

She scoops Rowan up from her crib and he is instantly smitten. She yawns a bit in Cleo’s arms. “Do you want to hold her?” Cleo whispers. He nods and holds his arms out. 

 

His heart races as the girl is pressed against his chest, not disturbed at all. “She’s a good sleeper,” he remarks. 

 

“Since the day I brought her home.”

 

“Mum said I was a good sleeper, too.” He pauses. “Can I ask you….Why did you call her what you did?”

 

She smiled. “Well...my brother’s name was Rohan. Spelled differently. I always thought it was a lovely name. And I know I’ve never met Anne, but surely it has a lot of meaning to you? It’s a strong name too. I want her to be tough.” She laughed a bit.

Harry is still confused. “Was…? Your brother…”

 

“He died. When he was seventeen and I was twelve. A car accident.” Her face fell. Harry held onto the baby a bit tighter. Tears started again in Cleo’s eyes. “So, I figured...it’s someone you love and someone I love, you know? She gets both. In her name.”

 

Harry nods. “How do your parents feel?”

 

She rolls her eyes. “They said they don’t approve of my ‘lifestyle choices’. But that they’ll love Rowan no matter what.”

 

“Lifestyle choices…?”

 

“I told them we’re not getting married.”

 

He frowns. “That’s all?”

 

“I told them I wasn’t sure I’d marry a man at all. I came out to them. That just sounds so silly. Like I’m a teenager.”

 

“It’s not.”

“You’re right, it’s not. It wasn’t.”

 

“They said ‘think of how it will be for her,’ and I said, ‘think of how it will be for me.’ They’ll get over it, I think. Or maybe not.”

 

Harry nods because he isn’t sure what else to do. “Cleo? I want you to know that I’m grateful for having met you.” He kisses Rowan’s forehead. “Consequences and all.”

 

She starts to cry. “Thank you, Harry.” Cleo looks at her daughter fondly. “Do you think she’ll be a-a boy killer?” She smiles. 

 

Harry looks into Cleo’s eyes, deep into them, and grabs her hand. “She will be...an absolute  _ heartbreaker _ . I’m sure of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheeky Harry reference at the end :)
> 
> Harry has finally met Rowan! There's going to be some conflict between Harry and Cleo about the parenting arrangement but they bpth want what's best for each other and their daughter. Please leave some feedback via kudos or comments if you liked it, or if there's something you would like to see from this story!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets someone important to Cleo, and bonds some more with Rowan.

 

“Um, do you have to be getting back to your hotel?” Cleo asks when Rowan is back in the crib. 

 

“Not, really...Could I stay, actually?”

 

“Spend the night?”

 

“Yeah, I can help take care of the baby. And the appointment is in the morning, right?”

 

“Yeah, it is. I guess…You know, she’s having her two-month check up. You can be there for that, too. If you want.”

 

“Of course I want to.”

 

“How long will you be in New York?”

 

“For the week, and then I’ve got to go back to London.”

 

“Right.”

 

Harry frowns. “What’s wrong?”

 

“I’m just thinking about what it’s going to be like when she’s older.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“To see you every once in a while, and that’s...that’s it. Maybe if we were closer…”

 

“Let’s not worry about that now, yeah? You’ve got your career here, right? You were just in that play and it ran for what, like two years? You don’t need to uproot yourself.”

 

Harry thinks she may cry again. “I’m sorry for what I said to you when I told you I was pregnant.”  _ It’s none of your business, it’s none of your, it’s none of your…..  _ Harry remembers all too well.

 

“I just don’t want her growing up in the spotlight. I want her to be grounded, and get a job when she’s sixteen and save up for a new guitar or whatever it is. You know?”

 

“You think I can’t teach her proper values?” He’s getting upset.

 

“You know that’s not what I’m saying. Harry, you worked hard for what you’ve got, and so did I. I want her to do the same. I’m not saying we won’t support her.”

 

“We? I thought you didn’t want me raising her. You don’t want anyone to know she’s mine.” 

 

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you won’t spoil her, Harry! Tell me you won’t buy her whatever she wants, take her anywhere whenever she asks. Tell me that you won’t do that!”

Harry doesn’t have a good response. “Tell me that you’ll punish her when she’s done something wrong, Harry. Tell me you won’t leave all of that to me, and then undermine me when I’m not there.” She’s sobbing now. “Tell me she won’t want to live with you instead when she’s older.”

 

“You know she’s going to love you. How could she not?” He hugs her.

 

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I really am.”

 

“Not your fault.

 

“You should have been there when she was born.”

 

“That’s not on you, love. I was angry at you. So angry that I didn’t want to call out of spite. Even when I knew the due date must’ve been getting close.”

 

“I should’ve called anyway.” 

 

“All we have is right now. The past is gone.” Rowan starts crying from the other room and Harry looks to Cleo. “Can I?” She nods.

 

Harry goes into the next room, still recovering from their argument. Rowan is wailing. He scoops her up from her crib and sniffs her bum. Clean. He holds her close and rocks her. “What’s wrong, my love?”

 

He carries her out into the living room. She’s still crying. “I think she’s hungry.” He says, looking into her eyes. Cleo was right; they’re the same color.

 

“In the fridge,” She says. Harry takes out a new bottle, expertly holding Rowan with one arm. 

 

“How long am I supposed to heat up formula for?” He asks, giving the child to her. 

 

She smiles. “It’s not formula.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Start at 45 seconds. And then if it’s not warm enough, put in in for 10 seconds at a time. Test it on your skin first. It should be just a bit warmer.” 

 

When the bottle is ready, Harry asks to hold the baby again. He sits on the floor, legs crossed, and feeds her. “You said in the letter that she likes to be sung to. What shall I sing?”

 

“Whatever you want.”

 

Harry smiles and begins to sing.

 

_ When I was just a little boy, I asked my mother _

_ “What will I be?” _

 

_ Will I be pretty? _

_ Will I be rich?" _

_ Here's what she said to me: _

_ "Que sera, sera, _

_ Whatever will be, will be; _

_ The future's not ours to see. _

_ Que sera, sera, _

_ What will be, will be." _

_ When I grew up and fell in love. _

_ I asked my sweetheart, "What lies ahead? _

_ Will we have rainbows _

_ Day after day?" _

_ Here's what my sweetheart said: _

_ "Que sera, sera, _

_ Whatever will be, will be; _

_ The future's not ours to see. _

_ Que sera, sera, _

_ What will be, will be." _

Rowan’s eyes get droopy. “That’s a beautiful song, Harry. I’ve never heard it.”

“I heard it when I was younger and I’ve always loved it. My mum would sing it.”

“Thank you for being here.”

~~

 

Cleo gets up to go to the bathroom. Her phone rings, and Harry gets up to look at it. 

“You’re getting a call from Amy.” He says.

“Will you answer it for me? I’m going to take a bath,” She calls after him.

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, introduce yourself. I need some alone time!” She laughs. 

“Okay, then…” He swipes the screen. “Cleo’s phone.”

“Who’s this?”

“I’m Harry.” 

“Wait, Harry...Styles?”

“That’s me.” There’s a long pause.

“Can I talk to Cleo?”

“She’s currently unavailable, I’m afraid.”

“May I ask why?”

“She’s in the bath.” He laughs a bit. “I can take a message.”

“Is she okay with you answering her phone?”

“She told me to introduce myself. You have yet to do the same.”

“I’m Amy Crosley. Cleo’s girlfriend.”

Harry has a big grin on his face. “Mmhm and what are your intentions with Cleo?”

“What? What does it matter to you?”

“As the father of her child, it matters a great deal.” He tries to keep himself from laughing. This is hilarious to him.

“To date her, I guess?”

“Have you met Rowan?”

“Uhm...yes?”

“What’s your opinion on her?”

“She’s...adorable.”

“Correct.”

“Why is Harry Styles conducting a full-blown interrogation of me?”

“Are you happy? With Cleo?”

“Extremely. Our eight-month anniversary is coming up.”

“So...you were with her during the pregnancy?”

“Yeah, we were together the whole time.” There’s a fondness in her voice.

“Were you there when...When Rowan was born?”

“No, I wasn’t. Her mom and sister were there. I was with her, uhm, after they left.”

“Oh.”

“And we haven’t really talked about marriage or anything if you’re going to ask about that. But I think...maybe. If things go well, you know?” She pauses. “So what about you?”

“What?”

“You’ve had me go on about Cleo. Who’s your Cleo?”

“My Cleo? Dunno. I mean I’ve had some girlfriends and some, erm, boyfriends. I had crushes on two of the guys in the band, if I’m honest.”

“And?”

“And it’s just always turned out wrong. Usually I like the other person more than they like me. I had flings with guys while I was in the band, and I would properly date girls, but I always gave too much of myself. I even fell in love. Nobody’s ever loved me back. Not to the same degree I did.” He pauses. He didn’t think he’d end up saying that much.

After a moment, Amy says, “That’s dark, Mr. Styles.”

“Yeah, it is.” He looks over at Rowan. “But it’s not always about love, is it? I met my  _ daughter _ today. She’s beautiful. I’d give up everything for her. Finding love, I guess, isn’t always the thing you’re working towards, or the thing you suppose will eventually have. I found love today. With her.”

“You sound like a songwriter.”

“Thank you very much. My tour is over for now, but you can listen on Spotify and iTunes.”

“And on the phone?”

“And on the phone,” he echoes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in this fic, Harry's song Kiwi isn't on his album. It's an unreleased song that he sings on tour like Medicine or Anna.

Harry wakes the next morning to the sound of crying. He checks the time. 6:40 am. He should have been up soon anyway. He peels the cover off of himself and swings his legs over the side of the bed. Harry always makes sure to get up slowly, so he won’t black out when he stands up.  

He blinks, attempting to rid the sleep from his eyes. The closer he gets to the epicenter of the noise, the more he thinks that he’s been a fool. A fool to be angry with Cleo, and a fool not to see his own daughter’s birth. He could have fought to be there, but he didn’t. Now he’ll have to explain to this beautiful girl that he wasn’t there for her birth. Every parent should witness the birth of their child. Every one.

He should have been there to name her. He should have been the first one to hold her after Cleo. _His_ mother should have been there. But none of that happened. He was selfish. _It’s none of your business_. “Fine,” he thought, “I’ll just focus on my career.”

In some ways he regrets writing that song about Cleo. He was harsh, and maybe a bit disrespectful. He didn’t want to acknowledge their deep emotional connection, because he wanted to focus purely on the fun he had with her. Still, calling it _Kiwi_? That must have been a slap in the face. He doesn’t know why she never said anything about it. Now his tour is over, he doesn’t know whether to release the song at all. Fans seemed to like it fine. He loved it, and will continue to, but he’ll always be thinking of what he missed out on when he sings it.

“Shh, shh,” Harry says as he picks up the child from her crib. “What’s wrong?” He inhaled. “Ah, you’ve had an accident.” He scrunches his nose. “Not to worry, it happens to the best of us.”  

He’s not very experienced in changing diapers, but it’s a skill he’s ready to acquire. “Right, do I need gloves or something? Because that is just unpleasant, Row.” He peels the diaper off of her and tosses it in the bin.

“Wipes, wipes…” He scans the room and finds them.

“Ah, there we are. All better.” He wraps her in a fresh diaper. “I know you won’t remember this when you’re older, but I will. And one day, I’ll be lying in wait. You won’t see it coming. ‘Who wiped your bum when you were small?’ I’ll say that, and you’ll just go marching up to your room.”

He kissed her forehead and held her in his arms. She was still crying, but it seemed to be letting up. “I know your mum said you like songs, but I was wondering if you’d like to hear a story?”

“Let’s see,” he spoke in a soft, low voice. “One time, I went on holiday with my family to Turkey. It’s important to remember that I was still a boy then, not very confident. I was walking on the beach alone, when these two German boys, they were brothers, asked me if I wanted to play volleyball. I wasn’t very good at volleyball, but I saw it as a opportunity to make friends.” he paused a moment, smirking.

Her crying had all but stopped. “Anyway, I would come back to the same spot every day to play volleyball with them. I got rather close with the boy who was my age. His name was Gustav. He would always play on my team, and he would hug me whenever we won a game, or I had given a really good serve. He even taught me how to score the games in German.” Harry smiled at the memory.

“And I’ll never forget this. One day, I went to the spot to play volleyball, and it was just Gustav. He said his brother and their friend were off doing something else, but that he wanted to hang out with me. So, he took me by the hand and led me into the woods to some old treehouse he said he found. That’s when I kissed him. He was so surprised. At first I thought I’d read it wrong and he was upset, but then he smiled at me.” Rowan has fallen asleep. She’s snoring softly against his bare chest. He almost doesn’t want to put her down, but the ending of his story seems to remind his body how exhausted he is.

“And so, the moral of the story,” he whispered, “is that you’ll never know what’s possible if you don’t try.”

Carefully, he set her back in her crib. “I know we just met, but I love you more than everything,” he whispered, “even the stars. I hope you never doubt that.” He placed a final kiss on the crown of her head.

~~

“Nice to meet you, I’m Harry.” Harry shakes hands with the doctor.

The doctors smiles and nods with acknowledgement. “Okay, so today…” she glances at the chart. “Little Rowan here is getting a check-up, and Harry is getting his blood tested. Wonderful.” She glances at Harry. “Let’s start with the baby and work our way up, shall we?” That remark earns a soft laugh from Cleo, who reaches out for Harry’s hand.

Harry squeezes  back with reassurance.

“Okay. Little one’s due for some shots today, but first we’ll do the physical exam.”

The woman gathers Rowan up and begins to weigh and measure her. Harry thinks it’s a bit bizarre to see someone take a measuring tape to his daughter’s head, but what  does he know about a baby’s medical care?

“Ten pounds, twenty-one and a quarter inches, and 15 inch head circumference. All within range.”

“That’s good?” Cleo asks.

“Yes, it’s very good.”

Cleo keeps needing to hold onto Harry for support as the doctor checks Rowan’s eyes, ears, and...well, everywhere else. He doesn’t mind it, but he’s a bit concerned.”You alright, love?” He whispers.

“I’m fine, I think. I just get...emotional.”

Harry frowns. “Did you go alone last time?”

Cleo nods. “No one else could make it.”

“Amy didn’t…?”

“I didn’t want to ask her.”

“It’s okay,” he said, rubbing her shoulders. “Call me for the next one, yeah? I wanna be here for all of them.”

“Alright, everything looks good. She’s very healthy. Now, I’m going to ask you a few questions.”

“Okay,” Cleo says. She’s grateful that Harry is still holding her hand. She doesn’t think she deserves him.

“How often is she eating?”

“Um, every two or three hours.” She usually sets a reminder.

“And are you using formula or breastfeeding?”

“Um, I tried breastfeeding, and it didn’t take. But I’m still feeding her breast milk.”

“Great, and does she smile?”

Cleo grins. “Yeah, she smiles all the time.” She could still remember the first time Rowan smiled at her.

“Has she started pushing up on her forearms?”

“Yeah, a little. I think she’ll be crawling soon.” This made Harry both elated and sad. He’s missed all of this.

“So you’re give her time on her belly when she’s awake?”

“Yeah, she loves it.”

“Her posture, what’s it like? Is it still scrunched like the fetal position, or is she maybe overly relaxed when you hold her, like she’ll slip?”

“No, none of that.”

“Does she respond when you say her name, or perk up when other people talk?”

“Yeah.” Cleo was getting progressively more nervous that Rowan wouldn’t be up to par with the other two-month-olds.

“And you haven’t noticed anything unusual with her eyes or how she looks at anything?”

“No, I haven’t noticed anything like that.”

The doctor pauses a moment to record everything. “Well, I’m pleased to say you’ve got a very healthy girl here.”

Harry pulls Cleo into a hug. “See? Everything is fine. She’s fine.”

~~

“Harry, I know I said I wanted to do this by myself, but I just don’t know if I can.”

“You don’t have to do anything alone if you don’t want, okay? I promise.” Harry looked across the room at Rowan. He was in awe every time he looked at her. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Would you be willing to come with me to Cheshire? So my family can meet you and Rowan.”

“I-I don’t...I don’t know.”

“They’re not going to judge you, Cleo. They’ll love you. I’m sure of it.”

Cleo was ashamed for the way she treated Harry initially. “I just...I don’t want them to think of me as, as just that girl from your song, you know? Like I was just trying to keep her away from you, because I just needed some time to-to adjust, a-and my family wasn’t s-supportive of me a-and I couldn’t..I-I…”

He took her hand in his. “It’ll be okay, I promise. Bring Amy if you want, too.”

“I don’t know if…”

He smiled. “Just ask her, then. Okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter! Very wholesome, I think. We'll get into Cleo's issues with mentioning Amy later...


	5. Chapter 5

 

**New York Presbyterian Hospital**

from: <dnagenetics@nypres.org>

Paternity Results

Mr. Styles, we are contacting you in regards to your paternity test. After examination, we have determined your result is **positive** and that you are the biological father of Rowan Anne Styles. An official letter will be sent to your provided address. The documents enclosed will be legally binding and admissible in any further court proceedings. For more information, please contact our department directly via the number provided in the signature of this email.

Best,

DNA and Genetics Team

 

Harry smiles. He has to admit, his heart dropped a little when he first saw the email, because he wasn’t sure what would be in it. But it only confirms what he’s known all along: he’s a father.

 

He rings Cleo and waits, becoming more and more anxious with each tone. “Harry? How are you?”

 

“I’m great,” he said. “I got the results back. It’s positive.”

 

“I’m glad it made you happy,” she says. There’s laughter in the background.

 

“Who’s that?”

 

“Oh, that’s Amy. Amy, say hi to Harry!”

 

“Hi, Harry!” Amy calls. “Your daughter is already as charming as you are!”

 

“Well, what’re you gonna do?” he joked. “Has Cleo talked to you about coming to visit?”

 

“Um...Cleo? You never...”

 

“I'm going to Cheshire in a few weeks…” Harry continues. “Does that work for you? Are you busy?”

 

Cleo takes the phone off speaker. “Uh...no, I don’t think I have plans for then. It shouldn’t be a problem.” she says. Her voice is hesitant, and she’s focused on Amy, who is staring at her from across the room.

 

There’s a long pause. Before it becomes awkward, Harry says, “O-okay...would you like me to schedule your flight, then?” “Schedule” is his nice way of saying “pay for.”

 

“I think I can do it. You don’t have to--” Amy has since put Rowan down, and she’s observing the conversation from across the room, arms folded.

 

“It’s no trouble.” Harry says, a bit quickly. He knows how expensive long-haul flights can be, and he doesn’t want to put any financial strain on Cleo, especially not when she’s Rowan’s caregiver.  “When is good for you?”

 

“Uhh…” Cleo says, still clearly uncomfortable with his offer. “How is Thursday, week after next? We could spend the weekend, come back that Monday?”

 

“Sounds great.” Harry says. “I’ll send you the information.”

 

“Wait.” Cleo says. “She doesn’t have a passport.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Rowan. She doesn’t have one. I didn’t think we’d be traveling so soon. I guess we could get one expedited…”

 

“Oh...that’s right.” Harry tries not to let on that he's disappointed. “Well, let me know what your plans are for that. I can help.”

 

“Right, yes, of course. I’ll let you know.” She pauses. “Um...unless you want to fly in again, you’ll have to give notarized consent for her to get the passport. Uh...I can send you the form, I’ll look it up.”

 

“Great, yes, wonderful. I can’t wait to see you. All of you.”

 

“Right…” Cleo says, her face falling. She puts the phone down.

 

“What the hell was that, Cleo?”

 

“I was going to talk to you about it--” Cleo begins.

 

“You don’t want me to go, do you? You don’t want me to meet his family? What, are you afraid it’s going to turn into _Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?_ ”

 

“No, it’s just... a really big step!” Cleo says, exasperated. “So, I wanted to wait to talk to you about it.”

 

Amy crosses the room. “So, what’s the verdict?”

 

“Eight months is a long time. I know you and you know me, Amy. But we don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. I just, I want to show them that she’s got some stability. I don’t think it’s right to bring around someone I’m dating if we’re not…”

 

“If we’re not...what?”

 

“If we’re not going to be married. If I don’t know that she’s there for good.” Cleo says, looking down.

 

“Then let’s get engaged. We’ll show them I’m here for good.”

 

Cleo’s startled. “What?”

 

“Let’s get engaged. Let’s get _married_ , Cleo. Don’t you want that?”

 

Tears form in Cleo’s eyes. “There was a time when I would have said yes. I want to. But romance isn’t the most important thing in my life anymore. It’s Rowan. Every decision I make affects her too. I can’t just _decide_ to get married on a whim, Amy. I thought you’d understand that.”

 

Amy is already almost at the door when Cleo finishes speaking. “I guess I don’t understand you after all, Cleo. Have a good time in England.”

 

The door slams behind her.

 

To: **Harry**

Hey, Harry. Could you schedule the flight for just me and Rowan? Thanks.

~~

Cleo walks with Rowan strapped to her front, her suitcase rolling behind her, and Rowan’s baby bag hanging off her shoulder. She sighs as she follows the signs the the bathrooms. She’s exhausted. Rowan was so fussy the whole eight hour flight, probably from the painful pressure in her ears.

 

When she finally makes her way to the ground transportation, she wishes Harry was waiting for her. Obviously, he couldn’t just wait for his child and her mother in the middle of John Lennon airport. But he did the next best thing and sent her a car.

 

“Morning, miss. Would you like some help with your things?”

 

She nodded, dropping the bag she was carrying and allowing the man to stow it in the trunk. “Thanks.”

 

To: **Harry**

Hey, I’m at Liverpool. About to leave.

**Harry**

Great! See you when you get here. Mum’s anxious to meet you.

To: **Harry**

Anxious to meet her too!

**Harry**

You can sleep when you arrive. You must be exhausted.

 

Cleo barely registers the last message, her eyes begin to droop, and she gives into the drowsiness. Rowan gets to sleep, why shouldn’t she?

~~

“Miss? We’ve arrived.”

Cleo opens her eyes. The car has pulled in front of a quaint and modest house that anyone could imagine raising a family in. “Thank you,” she said, checking on Rowan, who is still awake and babbling softly. “Mmm love you,” she whispered, kissing the baby’s head.

 

Before she gets  herself together, the car door opens. “Glad to see you’ve made it in one piece,” Harry says, beaming. “Shall I take her?”

 

Cleo nods and Harry undoes the straps of the carrier gently, pulling Rowan out and holding her close to his chest. “How are you? Did you miss your Dad?” he asks, pressing kisses to the child’s forehead.

 

Inside, Cleo tries to look happy as Anne ogles over Rowan saying, “My little Rowan Anne,” but her brain is scrambled and she can’t stop thinking about Amy. Did she even want to get married in the first place, or was all of that just to prove a point? There was no way she could have said yes in those conditions. Right? She can’t believe that woman would just slam the door behind her and never come back.

 

“You alright, Cleo? Want to lie down?” Harry asks. It might just be her fatigue, but his voice sounds to her like someone would imagine a warm blanket to feel. Without thinking, she leans in to him, and he straightens himself to keep her upright.

“Yes, please.”

 

“Mum, I’m going to put Cleo up in the guest room, alright?”

 

“Okay, sweetheart,” Anne says, preoccupied with her granddaughter. “She’s absolutely perfect, Harry.”

 

Harry links elbows with the sleepy woman and guides her upstairs. “Absolutely perfect,” he imitates, smiling.

~~

Harry sits beside Cleo as she settles herself under the covers. “Ugh, feels like heaven,” she mumbles, burying her face into the pillow.

 

“Cleo?”

 

“Yeah?”

“Are you alright?” She looks up at him, wondering how a grown man can be so gentle. Everything, his mannerisms, his posture, would make any person feel calm and safe. She’s never understood that.

 

“No, I’m not.”

 

“Will you tell me what happened?”

 

Cleo groaned, sitting up and adjusting the pillows behind her. “We’ve broken up, I think.”

 

“Cleo...that’s…” Harry frowns, putting his hand on her arm.

 

“She was mad at me because I didn’t ask her about England yet when you called.”

 

“Cleo, I’m so sorry...I didn’t--”

 

“It’s not your fault, Harry. I wasn’t sure if I wanted her to come. I said I didn’t want to introduce her until I was sure we’d...end up together, you know?” Harry nodded solemnly, letting her continue. “It’s not just about me anymore. I don’t know enough about how she’d be with Rowan, Harry. I don’t know if I want to _raise_ her with this woman I met eight months ago.” She pauses, and her voice becomes shaky when she speaks again. “She said, ‘Then let’s get married.’ What was I supposed to say?”

 

“And then she left?”

 

“Slammed the fucking door.”

 

“You did the right thing. Ultimatums...they’ll ruin a relationship no matter what you say. You haven’t spoken at all?”

 

“Not since that night you called.”

 

“Jesus, Cleo. I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay,” she says, having now reverted back to a horizontal position. “I don’t need to be dating right now. Rowan’s more important than everything else. I’m so tired, Harry.”

 

He turns the light off. “Sleep tight. I’ll wake you for dinner.”

 

“Good plan.”

~~

“Oh, darling, I’m absolutely in love! Such a gentle child, just like you were.”

 

“She’s not fussy,” Harry says, “just sleepy.” He leans in to kiss Rowan. “Just like your mum." He pauses. "I swear, mum. Haven’t you set her down yet?”

 

“Of course not! How could I with a face like that?”

 

“Dear lord,” he says, rolling his eyes.

 

“Is Cleo okay? She went straight upstairs. I wanted to have a chat.”

 

Harry raises his eyebrows and follows her into the kitchen. “A _chat?_   What do you need to have a chat about, mum?”

 

“Doesn’t concern you. Mm, go on and eat one of them apples. I went to the market today.”

 

Harry shakes his head and bites into one. “Don’t scare her away,” he says, mouth full.

 

“Honestly, Harry. What do you think of me? I just want to get to know her. Aren’t I allowed that?”

 

“Of course, mum. Just be...gentle, you know? She just broke up with her girlfriend.”

 

“Girlfriend?”

 

Did he forget to mention it?  “Just don’t be weird about it, okay?”

 

“Harry, you know I’m not judgmental.”

 

“Good, so don’t bring it up.”

 

“I’m not going to bring it up. Will I?” she asks Rowan.

 

“Mum, she’s asleep.”

 

“No, she said ‘No, Grandma.’”

 

Harry laughed, “You’re ridiculous,” he said , leaving the room.

 

“Am not! Am I, Rowan?” Harry is already in the living room by the time his mother calls, “She said no!”

 

“Bloody ridiculous, mum!” he answers.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter :) I hope you've enjoyed the story.

_“I hate cities. Especially this one.”_

 

_“Why?” Harry asked, propping himself up on his forearms._

 

_“They’re just...cold. And mean. And there’s no grass, no trees, everything is artificial._

 

_“And yet, here you are. That’s interesting, Cleo.”_

 

 _“You just gotta make sacrifices, I guess. Like, if I had a family or something, I wouldn’t want to have it here. I want us to be in some suburb somewhere where there’s a yard and maybe a lake, and_ trees _, you know?” She rested her head on his chest._

 

_“Reasonable. Do you think you’ll want kids?”_

 

_“Eventually, maybe. I always thought I might get tired of waiting for someone and just have one on my own.”_

_He ran his fingers through her hair. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that.”_

 

 _“But don’t you think that’s amazing?” she said, her face close to his. “I can just_ decide _one day that I’m going to make another person. Just like that.”_

 

_“Pretty amazing,” he said before giving her a soft kiss._

 

_“Am I talking too much? I can never tell.”_

 

_Instead of answering, he kissed her again, long and slow. It was frantic, compassionate. She let herself sink into him, knowing somehow that he’d hold her steady._

~~

“Anne, I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk earlier. Thank you for inviting us.”

 

Anne smiled. “Of course, dear. I couldn’t wait to meet the little one. She’s precious.”

 

“Yeah, I know,” Cleo says, praying that there won’t be an awkward dip in the conversation. She looks to Harry, but all he can offer is a supportive smile.

 

“So, Cleo,” Anne begins, “tell me about what you do.”

 

“I’m an actress. I’m mainly in plays. And, when I don’t do that, I temp off and on at  production companies.”

 

“That’s interesting, what do you do there?”

 

“Video editing and motion graphics. I have a degree in video post production. But, right now, taking care of Rowan is my job.”

 

“Harry, you never told me how brilliant and multi-faceted Cleo is.”

 

Harry grins, looking over to Cleo, “Sorry, it’s just better when she says it.”

 

“I could never stick to one thing as a kid, so I ended up doing a few things, I guess.”

 

“What is your job like in what, motion…?” Anne asks.

 

“Motion graphics? That is the part of post production that deals with special effects, like the kind you see in every superhero movie or something. Generally, there are large teams working on these projects, so I may not be working alone on something. But if I am alone, I have a deadline to finish a part, and it gets sent onto different people, sort of like an assembly line.”

 

“Isn’t that stressful?”

 

“It can be. It’s tedious work, but it’s rewarding.”

 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Harry? Would you say grace, dear?”

 

He clears his throat and everyone joins hands. “Dear Lord, we thank you for the gifts of food we are about to receive, and we thank you for bringing Cleo and Rowan here safely to share it with us. We thank you for our healthy baby girl, and her strong mother, and we praise you for all the other blessings in our lives. Amen.”

 

“Beautiful, my son.”

~~

“Hope the interrogation wasn’t too much for you.” Harry laughs.

 

“She’s lovely.” Cleo rests on the bed and Harry joins her.

 

“Maybe we can go out tomorrow? I can show you around.” Harry says, playing with his hands. He’s anxious; he didn’t really come in here to chat.

 

“Yeah, sure. You can show me the bakery where you used to work.”

 

Harry hasn’t thought about that place in a while. “Yeah...maybe.” He looks at Cleo a bit too long, so he directs his attention to the door. Cleo seems to notice this, so he scoots away a litte.

 

Cleo turns her body to face Harry, hair falling in her face. “Thank you. For everything.”

 

“I should be thanking you,” he says in a low voice. He turns his body to mirror Cleo’s.

 

After what seems like and eternity, he presses his nose against hers. “Harry,” she says, but it’s just a whispered nothing. Harry kisses her. It’s not chaste, nor is it slow and sensual. It’s firm, like an embrace.

 

He opens his eyes when they pull apart and sees that Cleo doesn’t look excited or lovestruck, but rather, pensive. “What’s wrong?” he whispers.

 

“I just...I wish I could be with you, Harry. But I can’t love you like that. I wish for Rowan’s sake that I could.”

“We don’t need to be together for her to be happy,” he says, frowning.

 

“Everything would be so much simpler if we were.”

 

“Simple is boring.”

~~

 _Stupid,_ Harry thinks to himself. Why did he have to do that? He supposes he just wanted to see if she had any feelings left for him. He thinks she does, but like she said, it’s not simple. This isn’t like him, anyway. He doesn’t lay in bed thinking about women, not the way he does with men. Men are desirable, and women are admirable. But Cleo isn’t just any woman.

 

He doesn’t even want to be together with Cleo. He just craves the intimacy they once shared. It got lost along the way and he doesn’t know which turns to take to get back there, if it’s even possible. It’s like they don’t know how to talk anymore.

 

Maybe he’s just overthinking. Maybe she’s just upset about Amy, and he had the nerve to kiss her after that. Maybe Harry’s just a jerk.

 

No, maybe he just wasn’t thinking with his head.

 

That was it. Everything would turn out okay for them.

 

After all, there are worse things than thinking with your heart.

~~

 

_Nine Years Later_

_Dear Rowan,_

_As I write this, you’re very small. You haven’t even been alive for a year yet. Your mum has just met my mum, and broken up with someone she loves very much. I’m writing this to you because I want you to know the circumstances in which you came to be, and why things are they way they are now._

_When I met your mother, she was beautiful and alluring. She wore a black dress, and when I brought her home with me, she smoked some cigarettes because she was “feeling nasty.” She’s a compassionate, earnest, and irresistible woman. Meeting her was the best thing that’s ever happened to me._

_I should start off by saying that love is a complicated matter, and cannot be expressed in simple terms. It comes in many different forms, and the best way to understand it is to feel it. That said,  people only have a capacity to love certain people in the way of romance. Romantic love is the kind you feel when you get married. While your mother and I cared for each other, we didn’t have the capacity to love each other like that. This is why we don’t live in the same house together like the parents of some of your friends. Your mother loves women romantically more than men, and she probably is with a woman she loves so much, that she is willing to share you with her. I can romantically love men the same as women, so the person I’m sharing you with might be a man or a woman at the time you’re reading this._

_When we found out that we were bringing you into this world, there were some complications. Your mother was scared that you’d be raised in front of cameras because of my job. She was scared that I wouldn’t want to care for you. I could never not want to care for you, but her concerns, while justified, really hurt my feelings. She said she wanted to have you alone, so the first time I met you was when you were two months old. I’ll regret forever that I wasn’t there to see you come into the world. I’m so sorry for that, my love._

_The day I met you was the most important day of my life. I fell in love with you. The love a family has for each other is another unique form. I told you when you were little that I love you more than everything. Even the stars. I hope I’ve never stopped telling you that. Not even the stars could compete with you._

_I hope your birthday was everything you wanted, my love. Remember to think with your heart first and head last, and to treat people with kindness._

_All My Love,_

_Dad_

 

“Thank you for reading that to me,” Rowan says. “It sounded sweet like honey.”

 

“No, _you’re_ sweet like honey, my love,” Harry says, wrapping the little girl in his arms. “How does it feel to be ten years old?”

 

“I’m not sure, Dad. I think that’s pretty old. One more zero makes a hundred, and I saw on the tv that a lot of people die before one hundred.”

 

“That’s true…” Harry says, feigning concern. “But you won’t be one hundred for another ninety years.”

 

“That sounds like a long time, Dad.”

 

“It’s a very long time,” Cleo remarks. “Open your dad’s present.” she says pointing to the large box at her feet.

 

“I was getting there,” Rowan says, “I just like the s...suhhs.. Oh, I know this one….” Rowan furrows her brow.

 

“Suspense?” Harry offers.

 

“Suspense! That’s it! I just like the suspense, thank you very much.” she said, crossing her arms.

 

“Well are you going to open it?” Harry asks, rather amused.

 

“Oh, right!” She begins to tear at the wrapping paper, gasping when she sees what’s inside. “Dad, is it a guitar?” she squeals, opening the case up. The instrument is a bit big for her size, but it doesn’t dampen her excitement. She runs her fingers over the steel strings and tanned wood. “Will you teach me to play it?” she begs.

 

“Of course I will.” Harry says, looking over at Cleo. This is the happiest he’s ever been, and he can tell she feels the same. “We’ve made a beautiful thing,” he says to her.

 

“That we did,” she agrees.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading to the end, it really means a lot to me. I hope to write more in the future. If you'd like to see more from me, I'm writing another Harry fic called You Bring Me Home. Thanks again. Kissy.


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